


Arcana

by cruisedirector



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Canon, Amnesia, Multi, Pre-Deathly Hallows, Romance, Snape/Lupin Fuh-Q-Fest, Tarot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-10-01
Updated: 2009-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Challenge #66 -- "Remus is charged with the job of helping an amnesiac Severus and the two become close. Then Severus discovers/remembers what Remus is and what he was like to him in childhood."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Begun in 2005, abandoned for a whole host of reasons not least of which was canon going off in a completely different direction. I posted only the chapters with coherent scenes. If you want a general sense of the structure, the chapter list would have been:
> 
> 0 - The Fool - Severus Snape  
> 1 - The Magician - Albus Dumbledore  
> 2 - The High Priestess - Minerva McGonagall  
> 3 - The Empress - Molly Weasley  
> 4 - The Emperor - Harry Potter  
> 5 - The Hierophant - Rufus Scrimgeour  
> 6 - The Lovers - Snape and Lupin  
> 7 - The Chariot - Draco Malfoy  
> 8 - Strength - Hermione Granger  
> 9 - The Hermit - Sirius Black  
> 10 - The Wheel of Fortune - The Time-Turner  
> 11 - Justice - Sibyll Trelawney  
> 12 - The Hanged Man - Regulus Black  
> 13 - Death - Tom Riddle/Voldemort  
> 14 - Temperance - Luna Lovegood  
> 15 - The Devil - Lucius Malfoy and Fenrir Greyback  
> 16 - The Tower - Voldemort returns Snape's memories  
> 17 - The Star - Lily Evans  
> 18 - The Moon - Lupin as a werewolf  
> 19 - The Sun - James Potter  
> 20 - Judgment - Lily and James as Inferi  
> 21 - The World - The Sphere of the Prophecy

The unconscious man's eyes fluttered as Remus pressed a cool cloth against his forehead. "Severus. Are you awake?" he asked softly, mindful that the injured wizard likely would have a terrible headache, if he was coming around and not merely dreaming. Indeed, Severus winced slightly when he opened his eyelids, made an attempt to focus on Remus, then glanced down at his own hands and lifted one very slowly, as if it was weighted down with some invisible burden. The surprise in the dark eyes made Remus wonder if he had expected to find himself restrained or unable to move at all. "You've been unconscious for nearly a day," he explained. "You gave us quite a scare. How do you feel?"  
  
"I am not in pain," stated Severus in a hoarse voice. "Where am I?"  
  
"You're in Sirius' mother's room." Remus was prepared for a frown at the mention of Sirius Black, but Snape did not react to the words other than to nod once, waiting to see whether more information would be forthcoming. "Mundungus found you Stupefied in Knockturn Alley and we brought you here. Do you remember how you got to Knockturn Alley?"  
  
"I believe I fell. I was running, and there was a cliff..." Severus frowned. "No...that was what I was dreaming just before you woke me." His hand stroked the bed once, taking in the texture of the sheets, the soft blanket draped over his lower body. "I don't remember. Though I do remember Mundungus Fletcher...he sold me imported firewhiskey when I was too young to be buying it legitimately." It was a strange confession. Remus wondered whether Voldemort had used Veritaserum on Severus combined with Effutonic to make him speak idle thoughts aloud. "Was I too ill to be moved to a hospital? This bed seems rather ornate for a birthing center."  
  
"Birthing center?" asked Remus blankly.  
  
"Didn't you say that I was in a mother's room? And that my condition was serious?"  
  
"No, no, Severus -- this room belonged to the ever-cheerful Mrs. Black. You're at Grimmauld Place." Whatever Voldemort had done to this disloyal servant, perhaps it had affected his hearing as well. "We thought it might be unwise to take you to St. Mungo's, in case the Death Eaters were searching for you. Madam Pomfrey has been here to see you, and the headmaster. They both believed that you would wake on your own within a few hours, so they decided that rather than calling in an unfamiliar Healer, they would leave me to keep watch."  
  
"Thank you," replied Severus in a somewhat automatic manner, which did not lessen Remus' surprise; he could not remember Snape having thanked him for anything in years, perhaps ever. "The Death Eaters," he repeated slowly. "I presume from the name that they deal in illegal potions but I do not recall having met them." And when Remus did not reply, trying to make sense of the words: "Are you investigating them for the Ministry of Magic?"  
  
It was very unlike Severus to make jokes, and this one made no logical sense to Remus. An unnerving suspicion occurred to him. "You don't remember the Death Eaters?" he asked. Severus shook his head. "Do you remember Voldemort?" Another denial. "Severus. They must have erased themselves from your memory somehow. What's the last thing you do remember?"  
  
"I was working on a potion to make cough medicine taste like chocolate." That also sounded like a joke, but Remus couldn't help grinning, despite the increasing gravity of the situation. Unexpectedly Severus returned the smile, the most open expression of pleasure Remus had ever witnessed on the normally embittered face, and it warmed and chilled him at the same time. "I had gone out to find vanilla beans. My grandmother knows an apothecary where the...what's the matter?"  
  
"Your grandmother? Severus! How old are you?" Remus asked him, gazing at him through narrowed eyes.  
  
The prone form tensed as Snape's lips moved, apparently calculating. "I'm not certain," he said finally. "I can't remember my last birthday. In fact I can't recall any birthday celebration since I was seven -- my grandmother gave me a training broom." He paused, frowning. "Of course, she is no longer alive -- I was given her owl. I had forgotten for a moment."  
  
"I'm sorry," Remus said sincerely. "Do you remember where you live now?"  
  
"The house is...no, it was sold." Alarm kept surfacing on Severus' face, only to be pushed aside as he attempted to focus and remember what was asked of him. "I have not walked to the river in years, and where I live now there are greenhouses where I grow fluxweed, not a garden... The voice was so quiet that he might have been talking to himself. "No," he said finally. "I'm sorry. I do not remember. Severus!" Remus stared, waiting for him to continue, but Snape only stared back and after a moment he looked a bit sheepish. "I don't really understand that oath."  
  
"Oath?"  
  
"'Sever us.' Sever us from evil? I'm sorry to be having so much difficulty remembering."  
  
Remus felt his throat tighten. Obviously this was all a joke, but it wasn't at all funny and he couldn't see what it would gain Snape to be mocking him in this manner. "I think you're being rather juvenile," he snapped. "But I'm relieved that you're the same Slytherin we know so well."  
  
The look on Severus' face was blank, tinged with the beginnings of pain and fear. "I can see that you're frustrated with me, but I am quite confused and my head is beginning to ache. Perhaps if you would let me rest, I could answer your questions later..." He paused. "If we have met before, I have no recollection of it. What is your name?"  
  
"It's Remus Lupin." He could hear that he sounded stern, as if he suspected a prank, though he was becoming frightened, with the tightness in his throat traveling into his chest. "We've known one another since we were eleven years old."  
  
"And you call me Severus?"  
  
"Would you rather I called you Professor Snape?"  
  
"Professor...?"  
  
Reaching out, Remus caught Severus' chin and tilted his face to look into his eyes. He half-expected him to flinch away from the touch, but Severus let him stare at his pupils, which were neither dilated nor gleaming with the glassiness that suggested mind-control, and when Remus slid a hand roughly along Severus' face to feel for bumps or swelling on his head, the other wizard shivered softly, as if taken by surprise by a pleasant sensation.  
  
Remus jerked his fingers back. "Severus, if you are playing games with me, please tell me now." When there was no reply, he took out his wand and called out, " _Finite Incantatem_!" Nothing seemed to have changed in the curious gaze watching the tip of his wand. After a moment he tried again: " _Commemino_!" Again, nothing, and Severus shook his head slightly. "You still don't remember your name? Or where your home is, or what you do?"  
  
"I know that I can make potions. There are lists of ingredients in my mind for all sorts of concoctions. Though I cannot imagine why I ever needed to know how to treat a squid with a barnacle infestation." Remus bit back a smile, but he could not help letting it out a moment later when Severus continued, "And I remember that I want -- wanted -- to be a Quidditch player." No, he was not being mocked; Severus would never have admitted to him that he wished he could do something at which James Potter had excelled, not if he remembered. His memory was truly damaged, and along with it much of his personality had been wiped out.  
  
Abruptly Remus rose. "You must be thirsty. I'll make you some tea. And I need to contact someone to have a look at you. I won't be a minute. Will you please stay right here and try not to move, Severus?"  
  
"Severus is my name?" Remus nodded. "And...I am a professor?" Another nod along with a hum of agreement. "Are you a professor as well?"  
  
Hesitating, Remus ducked his head. He wanted to talk to Dumbledore before revealing anything else, for he had no idea what would be safe or what might set off a dangerous chain of recollections. "That is a very long story. Please stay here and I'll bring you something to eat."  
  
"All right," Severus said, and as an afterthought, "Thank you." Remus very nearly reached out to him, thinking to reassure Severus that he could trust him, for he was certain that in similar circumstances he would not be comfortable trusting a strange wizard who claimed to remember more of his own past than he did himself. But Severus' eyes were already falling shut, and Remus thought that the safest course of action must be to let him sleep, to wait and see what he remembered when he woke...to make Severus Snape the responsibility of someone, anyone, other than himself.


	2. I: The Magician

"Let us try again."

Dumbledore was attempting once more to use Legilimency to penetrate his mind, which Severus found irritating. It wasn't that he minded sharing secrets with the elderly wizard; beyond a handful of naughty childhood incidents, there were very few secrets in his mind. But during the last few attempts, he had encountered Dumbledore's own memories of himself, some of which were rather disturbing. In one of Dumbledore's recollections Severus saw himself shaking with fear after he had encountered a werewolf, and in another, he confessed in a tearful voice to murder.

Before they had met, Remus had explained that Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts where Severus had been a student and teacher. Severus had no recollection of ever having seen the castle before, though when he walked through the corridors, certain images and scents seemed familiar. He had known how to use all the magical equipment with which he was presented, and he had insisted that he could teach Potions, for he remembered quite well the art and science of mixing and simmering ingredients even for the most complicated brews. But when he could not recall the location of Slytherin House nor his own rooms in the Hogwarts dungeon, it was decided that he should return to Grimmauld Place while others substituted for his various roles at the school.

Remus had also explained that he was the werewolf in the memory Severus had seen in Dumbledore's mind. Severus recalled in precise detail how to make Wolfsbane Potion so he supposed that it was true he had known a werewolf, but he had difficulty reconciling the man who had taken care of him these past days with what he had read about the bloodthirsty creatures. If Remus or any werewolf had ever threatened Severus, he could not recall the incident.

In fact, as Dumbledore had noted, Severus could not recall any painful event from any point in his life. The loss was extensive: Severus had little recollection of his parents, most of his teachers, nearly any of his colleagues nor the enemies whom Dumbledore and Remus assured him were responsible for what had happened to his mind. So far as Severus could remember, his life had been fairly dull, taken up with potions, detective novels and the occasional Quidditch tournament. Upon discovering that he was also a tolerable chess player, Remus had challenged him to evening competitions, and though Severus could not recall where he had learned the game, he enjoyed the opportunity to practice.

With a soft sigh, Dumbledore put down his wand and handed Severus a small mirror. "What do you see?" he asked. The face in the mirror, though pasty and sallow, was not entirely unfamiliar. From the uneven cut of his hair, Severus suspected that he had not spent much time fretting over his appearance, and the articles of clothing that had been brought from Hogwarts were functional: teaching robes, a heavy cloak, a dark suit so that he could disguise himself as a Muggle if necessary. Even his nightclothes seemed formal, with numerous buttons and high collars.

"Anyone would think I had scars I was trying to hide," he muttered, tugging at his tie. Dumbledore gave him a piercing glance. "I'm surprised that my hair has not begun to turn gray." He knew his age not only from the lines on his face but because he could remember the winners of every Quidditch World Cup since his youth, many years' worth of competition, though he still could not recall birthday celebrations, nor many friends. There was a potions-maker in Scotland with whom he corresponded and a woman with whom he sometimes had dinner -- a painter he had met by chance in a shop, who had taught him about the magical inks which he sometimes mixed for her, yet who did not know any of his colleagues and could tell him almost nothing about himself beyond his interest in magical art. Remus had asked in a roundabout way whether the woman had been Severus' lover, then had apologized after Severus' vehement denial, explaining that because of the nature of Severus' work he thought Severus might have tried to hide such attachments from his colleagues.

Perhaps Remus was only trying to be helpful, but Severus sometimes had the sense that personal curiosity had surfaced when the other wizard asked him questions. The ugly tattoo on his arm had been explained to him but it continued to startle him that he had agreed to brand his flesh as a condition of becoming a Death Eater. Of course he knew the mark served as much more than an insignia, but he did not like the idea that he had accepted such an imprint...let alone the idea that he had sworn himself to a dark lord of whom he had no recollection. Worse, Remus and the others kept stressing how important it was that this dark lord whom they hated and feared must continue to trust Severus.

He had established that he and Remus were sharing a home which had belonged to a wizard named Sirius Black. Black had been killed by the same people responsible for Severus' predicament and had apparently been Remus' lover. Severus had no memory of his own romantic past but he was certain that he too had always been drawn to men, though Remus had stammered his ignorance of the subject when Severus mentioned it. Then Remus told him that he wouldn't have known because the two of them had not been friendly, and moreover that Severus and Sirius had loathed one another.

For his own part, Severus could recall no animosity. He liked the attentive way Remus listened to him when he talked about potions, which he suspected that others found tiresome. He liked the stories Remus told about their school days though he had no way of knowing whether he had even witnessed the events Remus described. He also liked the way Remus' fingers felt against his face and scalp when he examined his head for signs of swelling, as Madam Pomfrey had told him to do every evening...

Dumbledore was studying him, and Severus realized with embarrassment that he had been thinking a great deal about Remus Lupin while the headmaster attempted to prod inside his brain. "It is not unusual for amnesia victims to form attachments to people they perceive as guides to their own pasts," the older man said softly. "Remember that you are not seeing all the sides of Remus Lupin that you once knew, while his memories of you are far more complicated. You must understand that he is afraid of trying to remake you into a different person, rather than forcing you to remember all the unpleasantness."

Severus bit back the urge to tell Dumbledore that this was really not his business; Remus trusted Dumbledore, and that would have to be sufficient reason to follow his wishes. " _Reminisco commemini_ ," uttered the headmaster, and Severus felt his mind invaded once again. He relived his own memories as Dumbledore sifted them: creating fire from antimony dust and wood chips, being caught in a rainstorm while digging for flobberworms, using his wand to burn his initials in the thick leather cover of a book on defensive magic stolen from a boy who'd left it carelessly on a park bench. They were all satisfying recollections if not precisely happy, and when he caught a glimpse in Dumbledore's mind of his teenage self sullenly tormenting a doxy, he pushed it aside in favor of the way the Golden Snitch felt in his hand, vibrating and fluttering like captive joy.


	3. II: The High Priestess

Minerva McGonagall did not pity Severus, and for that reason alone Remus believed he would enjoy her company. But Severus also appreciated her intelligence, her dry wit and her untroubled demeanor when he debated with her, which was often. More than once Remus had to hide a smile as he overheard Severus and Minerva arguing some pedantic magical detail like the most effective counter-spell for an enchanted quill or the best way to rid an underground lake of mermites. Others likely would have found them dull, but work was familiar ground for Severus, and Remus suspected that he and McGonagall had always spent more time talking about esoteric research than their personal lives.  
  
"Would either of you like more tea?" he asked, walking out of the kitchen with the fresh pot that he had made, more for an excuse to leave his two former colleagues to talk in privacy. Holding out her cup, McGonagall beckoned him with a smile and Severus shifted over to make room for him on the couch.  
  
"Come join us. I have been attempting to catch up on the news of the sporting world, but it seems that Miss McGonagall has allowed her attention to international Quidditch to lapse."  
  
"I have been rather busy, you know," Minerva said archly, which did not disguise her affectionate look in Snape's direction. "In addition to my own duties, I have been teaching your first-year Potions classes. Can you believe that most of the students have never heard of a bezoar?"  
  
In contrast to nearly everyone else whom Severus had ever known, he retained many memories of Minerva. He had told Lupin that long ago, she had taught him to transform sand into sugar cubes, and that he had once traveled with her while she took the form of a cat, curling into an elegant ball on the seat beside him as the train clattered over the tracks. With a hint of shame, Severus confessed that he was uncomfortable calling her by her given name, although she had assured him that he had done so for many years. "Everyone's a little terrified of Minerva," Remus had assured him with a laugh, and they had compared notes on their difficulties in learning transfiguration charms -- something they had never discussed in the years when they both sat in her classroom studying them.  
  
"I suppose you're going to deny remembering that you owe me two galleons from our bet on the Arrows-Shamrocks match," she said archly as Severus passed her sugar for her tea and offered a dangerous smile.  
  
"Of course I remember. The Shamrocks won, you owe _me_ two galleons, and I should refuse to share these biscuits with you for trying to trick me." With a small shake of her head she dropped the money onto the tray and accepted the shortbread. This was another recollection that Remus and Severus shared -- eating cookies with McGonagall, as students and later as adults, though it was not until Severus described the setting in which he remembered doing so that Remus was able to identify the place as Minerva's office in Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Severus recalled nothing about the work of the Order, or the Death-Eaters, or any difficulties he had ever had at Hogwarts. He remembered nobody he strongly disliked nor students whose marks were poor. One evening Remus had asked him to describe his unhappiest memory and was told to his astonishment that Severus could not think of any. At first he thought that Severus did not want to answer such a personal question, but upon reflection Remus realized that it might be true: the memories that were left in the damaged mind seemed benign and pleasant. It was horrifying, then, to understand what it might mean that Severus barely remembered his parents and had no recollection of Remus at all.  
  
His body was scarred in unexpected places -- injuries that not even magical treatments could heal completely -- and his skin was very pale from years spent out of the sun. It was also very sensitive, breaking out in goosebumps from the faintest of touches. Remus was polite enough not to mention such responses, just as he ignored Severus' need to conduct certain activities in a certain order, arranging his silverware just so, putting on his clothing one article at a time, as if trying to control the repetition of these activities might trigger the recollection of larger patterns that remained elusive. So Remus told himself when he felt optimistic; at other moments, he wondered whether Severus might be an active participant in blocking thoughts that had become unbearable, occupying his mind instead with trivial matters.  
  



	4. III: The Empress

The first time Snape saw Molly Weasley, he exclaimed, "I remember you! You once insisted that I try some of your apple-fig cake after I insisted that I didn't want any, and it was delicious." Molly, who had mastered the ability to hide shock and terror from her own children, quickly disguised her feelings behind a delighted smile and offered to bake one for Severus as soon as she had finished darning her own sons' tattered socks. Then Snape uttered something even more remarkable. "Do you have children? I hadn't realized. Is she one of them?"

He was referring to Tonks, whom Molly had accompanied on her visit to Grimmauld Place. Nymphadora and Remus exchanged shy smiles, still not entirely comfortable being friends after the inevitable end of their brief affair, when Tonks explained her discovery that she had been under the influence of a love potion and Remus admitted that, as much as he liked her and for all they had in common, he still gravitated toward men. There had been no hard feelings, not even when Tonks began to go out with one of the Aurors with whom she patrolled Hogsmeade, yet she was still a bit bashful around Remus.

Severus had seen Tonks several times since he arrived at Grimmauld Place. Minerva had suggested that the opportunity to interact with people with whom Snape had had traumatic experiences might unblock his mind, and Tonks had agreed to take on the faces of Dumbledore, Voldemort, Pettigrew...anyone they could think of who might spark a recollection in Severus. There was little reaction until Tonks put on the face of Regulus Black, at which point Severus said, "Ah, I remember. I helped him with a Charms essay, and in return, on his first trip to Hogsmeade, he bought me a set of pheasant-feather quills at Scrivenshaft's -- the first I ever owned."

"I only met him once," said Tonks softly. "Sirius brought him -- my mother was never welcome in this house after she married my father, and Regulus usually did what his parents wanted. But he came with Sirius that day." She glanced around at the walls of the house where she had never been invited until she joined the Order, which still bore photos of relatives from the Pureblood side of her family. "You probably remember him better than I do, Severus, even now."

As it happened, Snape did retain a few other memories of Regulus Black. He also had isolated recollections of the Weasley boys, but none of Ginny, which Lupin suspected might have had to do with her possession by Tom Riddle during her first year at Hogwarts; anything that had to do with Voldemort was gone from Snape's mind. To Lupin's surprise, Severus let Molly spend an hour after dinner one evening showing off a family photo album and talking about her children; he was curious and intent, studying the moving pictures as if they might have held clues to his own past. Snape remembered a couple of spectacular pranks pulled by Fred and George which had secretly amused him, although the twins recalled that he had given them detention each time. He also remembered Charlie, who had been a diligent student at veterinary potions though he had little innate skill at mixing powders and oils. 

"He hardly recalls his own mother," Molly told Remus in a shocked voice when Snape had gone up to bed. "Planting vegetables, a few games of Gobstones and some potions...that's all. The poor man." And to Remus' surprise, she took on the responsibility herself. After Arthur's near-death in the incident at the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore had been loath to send Molly on any dangerous patrols, believing that her children had suffered enough, so with the family away at Hogwarts and work, she often had little to do and seemed pleased that she might be able to aid Severus' recovery. Often she came to Grimmauld Place simply to check up on them, cooking for whoever happened to be present and taking stock of supplies.

After Arthur's near-death in the incident at the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore and later McGonagall had been loath to send Molly on any dangerous patrols, believing that her family had risked enough. With the children away at Hogwarts and their work, she had often had little to do, and spent more and more time at Grimmauld Place, acting as an unofficial bookkeeper, costuming assistant and therapist to the Order. Often she came to Grimmauld Place simply to check up on them, cooking for whoever happened to be present and taking stock of supplies. 

This proved to be an extremely valuable task, for none of them had realized just how much Mundungus Fletcher was stealing until Molly began to keep inventory. But Lupin thought it was valuable to Snape as well simply to have her there, fussing over him, making him irritable and embarrassed (and, Lupin suspected, secretly pleased). She brought flowers and herbs into the dank building, wiping out its musty smell for the first time since Sirius had taken it over. She saw to it that the chimneys were cleaned and the fireplaces swept. Suspecting that Severus must be bored, she brought games that her children had outgrown -- gobstones, at which Severus proved to have impressive skill, and chess, at which Lupin was hopeless but he agreed to try anyway.

"I don't believe she liked the way I treated her children." Quickly and decisively, Snape moved his queen. "I will tell you the truth. I have no great fondness for children; it astonishes me that I was a teacher for so many years."

At this Remus smiled broadly, though the chess board told him that he was about to lose the game. "I didn't have the impression that you particularly loved teaching," he admitted. "Though for the students who excelled at your subject, you were an excellent professor -- some of them have gone on to very successful careers. And you managed to make even the slowest understand the essentials." He moved his own queen, delaying the inevitable. "Minerva would like you back, you know -- perhaps you could work only with the older students, those particularly skilled with potions and transfiguration..."

"Albus Dumbledore will not have me back." Leaning over the board, Severus took Remus' queen. "Check."

That was true enough. Not for the first time, Remus considered how very badly Severus might not want to remember. Were they doing him any kindness trying to make him relive the past rather than trying to help him start over? If only Dumbledore had been there...

"Why do you stay with me?" The question was unexpected, and Remus looked up from the spot on the board that was making him frown. "It must be apparent to you by now that I don't need to be watched like an invalid.

"It's partly that I'm between homes as well." Lupin had explained to Severus and the entire Order as little as possible about Greyback, who was in hiding. Lupin had done his duty for the Order, persuading the werewolves as a group not to join the Death Eaters and keeping track of Greyback's movements, but he was once again nearly penniless. "Harry said that while he's finishing his interrupted final year at Hogwarts, we are welcome to stay here, so I suppose that's been easier than figuring out where I want to go next." Haphazardly he moved a knight to protect his king.

"I am glad for the company." Astonished, Remus looked up, only to see a gleeful expression cross Severus' face as he took the knight. "Check."

The look on Severus' face was so smug that Remus smiled despite the fact that he was going to lose. It was pleasant to see triumph on the gaunt face -- a reminder that Snape might not be lost entirely, and with him all his knowledge and perspective on the events that had shaped their lives. "I'm glad for your company too," replied Remus, meaning it. Perhaps if his pawn could reach the far side of the board in time, he might recover his queen; he pushed it that way.

Thus he let his castle fall to Severus' knight, and when Severus again said, "Check. Mate in two moves," it was with a different smile than Remus had ever seen on Severus' face before -- lips parted, head cocked in invitation. 

Remus felt his breath catch. Was Snape flirting? With him? Fingers brushed over his own as Severus withdrew his hand, and Remus knew that there was no mistaking the intention in the gesture.


	5. VI: The Lovers

"Were you in love with me?"  
  
Remus stared, but the question appeared to be in earnest. There was no trace of mockery in the tone or in the pink-tinged, tight-lipped face turned slightly away, as if concerned that Remus might lash out. These were not words that he had ever imagined hearing from the tongue of Severus Snape, and he blushed in spite of himself. "No," he said quickly. "We did not have that kind of relationship. We could hardly even have been considered friends."  
  
Severus continued to look doubtful, his brow furrowed. "I heard the way that you defended me to Dumbledore."  
  
"It wasn't because I -- it wasn't personal. He hasn't seen you as often as I have and I didn't think that you should be pushed." Skepticism remained in Severus' expression, an echo of the contemptuous disgust that would surely have faced Remus at such a cowardly reply if the man before him had his memories. "Perhaps I was wrong to interfere."  
  
The frown on Severus' face eased slightly. "I know that you are trying to spare my feelings," he nodded.  
  
"That isn't why I..."  
  
"Thank you." Severus spoke over him as if he hadn't even tried to respond, and Remus did not interrupt again, still surprised to hear any expression of gratitude from a man who had so rarely offered them in the past. "But I must know the truth, if I am to have any hope of triggering my memories. Was _I_ in love with _you_?"  
  
The chuckle escaped before Remus knew it was coming -- a harsh, grating sound. "Severus," he said as gently as he could, wondering why this conversation was causing sorrow to tighten his chest. "You were not in love with me. You were the furthest thing from in love with me. I haven't described the entire situation. I told you that we weren't particularly friendly. The truth is that you despised me."  
  
"Because Black and I disliked each other?"  
  
"You didn't only dislike him. He went out of his way to ridicule you. And...I went along with it. We treated you very badly -- he called you Snivellus." Something flickered in Snape's eyes and for an instant Remus was hopeful that he had triggered a memory, but it appeared that the other man was merely surprised. "I never tried to stop him. We all laughed at you, and you resented me so much for it that you followed me...you discovered my secret. Dumbledore swore you to secrecy but you hated me for it."  
  
"I have reactions to people even if I can't remember them," Severus said in a low, flat voice. "You can see that I enjoy Minerva's company and I cannot abide that obnoxious child Potter. I feel no dislike toward you."  
  
"You and Minerva have been colleagues for many years, and from what I understand you disliked Harry the first moment you set eyes on him. Maybe it's because you and I got on when we were very young, and you can sense those first reactions, but so many things changed." Oh, thought Remus, he would have been wise to listen to Dumbledore. If Snape suddenly retrieved his memories, things could turn dangerous -- for himself, not for Severus, if this continued. "Look at me. I know that this seems abstract to you now, but I'm a _werewolf_. Something you've seen up close. At the full moon, without the potion, I will turn into a vicious, bloodthirsty creature. You may not remember but you can see the evidence on my skin..." He gestured at his face, surprised to find his hand shaking. "You've witnessed my transformation. You believe I'm a monster."  
  
There was nothing but empathy in Severus' gaze as he lifted his hand and slowly, steadily traced the paths of the most prominent scars from Remus' hairline down across his nose. Remus had to close his eyes in defense against a finger that drifted too close, making him blink; he kept them closed to hide the powerful response that made him want to reach out and return the caress, which continued down his cheek, cupping his chin, then circling to stroke over his mouth. Helplessly he shivered against a fingertip, tasting salty skin, as Severus leaned forward to brush his mouth over the scar he had just been touching. When his lips reached Remus' they both went very still, barely making contact, until Severus dropped a hand to Remus' shoulder and held on as though he feared that he would fall over, trembling with the effort of not moving. It felt as natural as smiling for Remus to purse his lips and press forward, bringing their mouths together, and again, and again.  
  
It was like kissing an innocent, with Severus so artless and open, breath emerging in quiet moans. His fingers clenched and unclenched on Remus' shoulder, gripping his clothing and reaching up to touch his hair, though he made no move to press closer, as if he was not certain what came next. The restraint made Remus ache more urgently than any practiced seduction could have done. He knew that if he led him, Severus would follow to the sofa or the bed or right down to the floor where they stood. And he wanted it badly, to erase all the pain of the past years, letting desire overwhelm distrust and fear, so that even if Severus did regain his memories perhaps he would know that he had been wrong, but if he did not...  
  
"We can't do this," Remus whispered.  
  
Severus released him, yet his wince clawed at Remus as if he had refused to let go. Even as a child he had been able to disguise his feelings more effectively, though Remus had never been fooled at how much the rebuffs must have wounded him when Sirius and James taunted him before their classmates. Remus had been furious when Sirius had let Snape see Moony in the throes of transformation, destroying any chance that he might ever have reached out to the other boy in friendship. Now, again, Severus was turning away, regret plain on his features, but this time Remus stopped him. "You will never forgive either of us when your memory comes back if we do this. You'll believe that I took advantage of you, or that I only did it to torment you later. You have to trust me. This isn't _you_."  
  
"I do trust you," Severus told him, the unearned words stinging like a slap. "But I wonder how well you really knew me. Perhaps this is who I wanted to be." Sensing Remus' stare, Severus looked at him again; and if his dejection had been devastating to witness, the wistfulness in his smile was heartbreaking. "I don't remember how to do this," he confessed quietly. "I can recall the mechanics, as if I had studied them, but I don't remember kissing anyone else. Ever. What must my life have been like, if I can't remember kissing?"  
  
Trembling, Remus reached for him, but Severus stopped him, catching his wrist. "Don't give me your pity." They were words the old Severus might have used but the tone was quiet, thoughtful. "I thought you wanted what I wanted. I suppose I saw what I wanted to see."   
  
Those words awoke a different memory: the last time, with Sirius, the last time Remus had made love, if he could call it that. Certainly it had been an act of love or he couldn't have done it at all, but it was not what he wanted, Sirius begging him _harder hurt me make me forget_ and Remus struggling to see the man he had been, before Azkaban and the Dementors, trying to give him what he needed, as if they weren't broken both of them as if they could go back and afterward Sirius apologizing _Moony, I'm sorry it has to be this way, I wanted you to want it because I did..._  
  
"It's not pity," Remus said so forcefully that Severus released his wrist, which had not been his intention. He was shaking all over with fear and guilt and want, and he knew that if Severus touched him again, he would take anything he offered and give anything he asked. "Don't you understand? If your memory does not come back, then I will never be certain that this is something you would have chosen, or that I didn't damage you -- I'm supposed to be helping you recover who you are, not trying to write over that with my own wishes. And if your memory does come back, and you remember how much you despise me..."  
  
"Was I such a hateful person that you cannot imagine me ever being otherwise?" interrupted Severus. "If it is any consolation, I have no more fondness for this person you say I was than you do. A murderer, a liar and a spy. If what Dumbledore has told me is true, I have no reason to doubt that I have been cruel. What I don't understand is why you would allow me to touch you even out of pity." And an echo of familiar disgust returned to the twist of Severus' mouth, though it appeared to be directed inward, not at Remus. "What must _your_ life have been like?"  
  
Although he had not moved, Severus was withdrawing slowly, arms and legs compressing against his body, and Remus understood something else: he did not want to remember. He did not want to be the person they kept telling him that he had been. "I'm so sorry," Remus murmured. "I'm trying not to do the wrong thing for the wrong reasons," and at the slow nod, "We weren't happy, Severus. We never had a conversation like this. If we change, and we like it, neither one of us will be particularly interested in trying to bring you back..."  
  
"Perhaps Voldemort believed that he was doing me a kindness, taking away my memories." Severus barked a short laugh. "It must be apparent to you that he broke me. Dumbledore believes you need me to fight this Dark Lord, but whatever strength I had, his was obviously greater. I can't understand how it helps any of us if you put me back together exactly as I was." He paced a few steps, then stopped, his face contorting, and he swayed slightly. "You said that love was the only thing stronger than he was. I don't remember being loved, or loving anyone. What weapons can you possibly believe I possess to protect myself from him?"  
  
Remus reached out to steady his arm. The touch worked like a binding spell: there was no letting go. Pulling him close, Severus kissed him again, still clumsy with inexperience but without hesitation, and Remus returned it with all his heart. _Perhaps this is who I wanted to be._ If Severus hated him for this later -- if he became the man Remus had known, with all his prejudices and all his anger -- Remus thought that it could not be any harder to face than it would be to deny what was happening between them now.


	6. VII: The Chariot

"Are you up _again_?" asked the warm voice against Severus' ear.

"I can't sleep." The urge to smile and wriggle against Remus overwhelmed him and he gave in to it, feeling Remus' laughter gust into his hair. He had not truly slept in days, which was ironic since they had spent nearly every moment in bed. He would drift off for a few hours but while his mind floated in dreams, his body would remember and reach for Remus before either of them was fully awake. Each time it happened he felt as if he was returning to himself, settling contentedly into his own skin, though his memories continued to elude him. There was only _now_ , and _now_ was a place where he was comfortable, safe, happy.

Any fear or shame he might have felt had disappeared during the first night. Presented with the novelty of a middle-aged lover who behaved like a virgin, Remus would have taken things slowly, but Severus had been unable to cooperate and had soiled his clothes, very nearly untouched, just imagining a hand or a tongue or another prick sliding over his own the way Remus' thigh brushed against him as they held each other on the still-neat bedcovers, dizzy with kissing. Rather than disappointment, Remus exhibited something like pride at Severus' lack of control and took full advantage of the ease with which he experienced pleasure. Severus wondered whether he had once known and forgotten all the things Remus taught by example or if Remus was simply brilliant at devising ways to gratify him.

His reputed skill at Legilimency seemed to be returning: several times while they were making love he had looked into Remus' eyes and been certain that he could read his thoughts, though he was ever aware of the dangers of seeing what he wanted to see rather than what was there. The ability to concentrate on the work Potter had left for him returned only when his body was exhausted, so he kept falling asleep instead of catching up on disciplines that had not been his specialties. He had no desire to focus on remembering and Remus had to order him sternly to continue to search for associations, but nothing linked him with his former life. 

Instead every word or object reminded him of something in the present...food, chess, herbology, music, sex. Mostly sex. They both expected McGonagall to guess and be displeased, but when she visited the headmistress only looked at Severus with an odd, sad expression and said, "Happiness suits you."

The past and the future pulled him in different directions. Remus' fingers were stroking and teasing him in very intimate places, driving all thought rapidly from Severus' mind as he shifted to accommodate them.

"There's someone I think you should meet," Remus told him in the morning. He did not look pleased. "Perhaps you'll remember him. Draco Malfoy."

Severus recalled a young boy showing off with a Golden Snitch, then had a brief recollection of an older boy on a broom zooming past a blurry dark-haired shape.


	7. XVI: The Tower

After Lucius had gone, Remus took Severus' face between his hands and kissed him. "Listen to me," he said softly. "Whether or not the things he said are true -- and only you would have known, I've no idea -- that is not who you are now. That is not your life now."  
  
"But I think he will do as he said," Severus replied, his eyes betraying his fear. "He will go to Voldemort. You are not safe with me. We shouldn't..."  
  
"If Voldemort chooses to come after me, it will matter very little whether I'm with you or not. And we're stronger together. Don't try to argue," Remus held up his hand when Severus started to object. "I can't be worrying about what's happening to you someplace where I can't reach you and defending myself at the same time. We need to stay...Severus? What's the matter?" He had turned white, and yanking at his sleeves.  
  
"My arm hurts," said Severus plaintively, like a child. "And the mark is turning black."  
  
Remus felt the color draining from his own face. He had waited too long to explain what might happen, and now...Severus, too, was pale, hunching over, and he suddenly pitched forward out of the chair, falling to his knees. "I'll get Dumbledore..." Remus had started to say when, bent double over the arm, Severus screamed.  
  
It was a cry unlike any Remus had ever heard -- worse than Sirius dreaming of the Dementors, worse than the sounds that escaped his own throat during the agonizing transformation. He went to his floor beside Severus, holding him while he screamed again as if a hundred _Crucio_ curses had been uttered somewhere just outside his vision. He knew that he should get up and find help -- his wand was only just across the room beside the bed, he had a two-way mirror in a drawer -- but Severus clutched at him, ripping a hole in his shirt in his desperation. Remus held him through the screaming and the awful, gut-wrenching sobs that followed, until Severus had gone limp in his arms, pale and wasted but breathing steadily. The Dark Mark had faded to a dark red.  
  
Remus hauled him to bed, lay him down wrapped in blankets and then contacted first Dumbledore, then Madam Pomfrey, both of whom scolded him for not having contacted them the moment the crisis began yet each of whom believed that if Severus had come through it, it would be better to let him rest before an examination. Dumbledore promised to alert the Aurors to possible Death-Eater activity, and Pomfrey gave Lupin a list of warning signs for which he must be alert. Throughout the conversations, Severus slept on, with color returning slowly to his cheeks and his damp hair gradually drying. Remus whispered a few spells to clean the sweat that had soaked his clothes and to keep him from feeling any further pain, but he did not dare do any more. He tried to keep a watch on Severus, but stress and exhaustion eventually overtook him, and pressed close to him, he slept.  
  
Gentle fingers on his face woke him: Severus' fingers, tracing the scars that crossed his face, just as they had the first night they had shared this bed. There was an unnerving look in Severus' eyes, dark and hungry, though Remus did not think that it was triggered by pain; he was about to ask when Severus whispered, "Shhh," and pressed a finger over Remus' lips. It was quickly displaced by Severus' mouth, soft and damp, no longer twisted in pain or pressed tightly together to contain the sounds of suffering. Remus kissed him back, and Severus slid over him, legs pressing legs arms pressing arms chest to chest touching everywhere, begrudging loss of contact only to push clothing out of the way, still kissing, still fluttering eyes open to reveal urgent, ravenous need. Severus on top  
  
When Remus opened his eyes, Severus was watching him again, with the same hunger in his eyes. Or not the same: the ravenous ache had softened, though there was just as much need in the look, a kind of starved appearance that Remus had witnessed on the faces of mistreated house elves. He was about to speak when Severus' fingers began to stroke the scars crossing his nose and cheekbones.  
  
None of Severus' gestures were ever casual -- he did not thoughtlessly touch people while talking, nor even shake hands with acquaintances unless the situation required it. This slow, deliberate retracing had a specific meaning, Remus understood. Just as the words came clear in his mind, Severus spoke them aloud, in a tone so low that he might as well have used Legilimency.  
  
"I love you."  
  
"Oh. Severus." Remus had been ashamed of how thoroughly he had allowed his control to erode, afraid that he had given away far too much to a man he was certain to lose one way or another. Yet as the words sank in, he could not halt his response, nor the wave of emotion that accompanied it. "You wouldn't be saying this to me if you remembered..."  
  
"Would you be saying it to me?" Severus' question, and the bleak gaze which accompanied it, made him forget his own turmoil and focus on the man who had lost so much more. "If you believed that I was not this damaged person but rather the one you knew, and you could hold me responsible for his behavior...then what would you feel?"  
  
"It wouldn't change." And that hurt most of all. "Don't you know I think about that every time I touch you -- what if this is the moment when you remember?"  
  
The fingers had paused in their careful journey along his scars. Severus waited for Remus to meet his eyes before speaking again in that quiet, inescapable voice. "When my arm began to burn," he said, "I remembered everything."  
  
It was so much to take in at once: that Severus had known exactly who and what he was when he made love to him earlier, that Severus had said those words in complete knowledge of their past...Remus found that he could not speak, and when his lover's hand left his face to curve behind his neck and pull him closer, he wrapped his arms tightly around Severus and clung while he talked. "[This is where the whole story of how he got Obliviated goes.]" He stopped. "Are you all right, Lupin?"  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Don't lie to me. You're shaking." There was no point in pretending otherwise, though Remus kept his head down, hoping that Severus would believe he was cold and not being wracked by emotion. The other wizard reached for a blanket, but as he moved he caught a glimpse of Remus' contorted face. Wrapping the blanket around both of them, he pulled Remus' head beneath his chin and held him tightly, stroking his hair, the way Remus had done when Severus began to scream. "I must go to Voldemort."  
  
"Not yet. It's too dangerous..."  
  
"What can he do to me? He tried to break me, and he failed, first by taking my memories from me and then by returning them. He has no power over us."


End file.
